Flashes Before Your Eyes
by ApocalypsePony316
Summary: At a pivotal moment in Ron's life, he finds his mind suddenly teeming with memories. Of himself, of Hermione...of them together. Missing MomentsRon's PoV: SS through DH.
1. Do You Remember?

Disclaimer: I have never, nor will I ever, own Harry Potter.

A/N: So I've noticed a whole slew of fanfics that deal with missing moments from Deathly Hallows...so I decided to take it a bit further and create a collection of missing scenes from the whole series! Hope you enjoy it!

And to my faithful readers, don't worry..._Getting Through It _isn't on hiatus, or even losing momentum...I just had to get this prologue out before it consumed me!

If any of you recognize the title, I stole it from my favorite episode of Lost. Lost/Harry Potter: life's two basic necessities! Enjoy!

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_Flashes Before Your Eyes_

I. Prologue: Do You Remember? 

The countryside, bathed in a silvery-white glow, was peaceful.

The only sounds to be heard were the soft, chirping songs of crickets and frogs, the rhythmic splashing of the creek against the bank, and the almost-nonexistent whisper of wind in the swaying willow trees.

None of these, however, stained the silence. Instead, they blended together, each complimenting the others, weaving seamlessly into the quintessential song of the night.

The quintessential scene of tranquility.

Overhead, the moon was undecided, lazily drifting back and forth between clear sky and a smattering of clouds…one moment washing the rolling hills and lush meadows with a comforting light, the next only shining halfheartedly through slits in the thick cover to dapple the ground below.

And it was through the stillness of this nighttime scene that Ron ran.

The grass underfoot was left wilted, hopeless, as the two-size too small trainers pounded mercilessly across the ground; the woebegone laces flapped uselessly in the wind created by his hurtling body, tiny white flags announcing…even begging for…surrender. His eyes, usually bright and exuberant with laughter, were darkened with an indescribable emotion, locked determinedly on his flashing feet. His senses were heightened almost the point of superhuman; he could hear every rasping breath his lungs struggled to take in. He could feel the water hugging the corners of his eyes, by-products of the sharp sting of wind. And he was intently focused on the rhythmic swinging motion of his arms, as they propelled him forward through the still air.

Ron Weasley was running for his life.

Or at the very least, running as though his life depended on it

Around him, the night seemed to pause, seemed to be holding its breath as it watched his progress. Atop a branch in a towering oak, a tawny owl…startled into consciousness by the pounding feet below…removed its beak from its wing with an indignant hoot. Round yellow eyes followed the sprinting outline, as Ron slowly made his way in the direction of a sprawling manor house perched majestically on the hilltop.

Due to the lateness of the hour, there was no light flooding from the many mullioned windows…however, tiny pinpricks of light shining from the rows of little garden lights that lined the property illuminated the sweeping driveway. Working as though on instinct, Ron directed his footsteps down the wide walkway, his eyes locked on the elegant wraparound porch, the arch of the front door…

And then the night was alive when the thudding of flesh to wood. Ron had not bothered to slow down, but merely thrown himself into the door, fists hammering…the echo was ear-shattering in the otherwise-deathly silence.

"Harry! Open this door right now!" his voice was hoarse, coated with the cold air he'd been heaving into his lungs for the past quarter of an hour. His tone was desperate. Terrified.

For a heart wrenching moment, there was nothing but silence on the other side of the door. Then, just as Ron raised his hand for another barrage of knocks, there was fumbling movement from within, accompanied by a familiar voice.

"What in the name of Merlin…hold on a bloody second! Never a moment's peace, I swear to…" there was a sudden bang, followed immediately by a shrill yelp of pain. "Sodding desk…light…" a scrabbling on the inner wall, undoubtedly his fruitless efforts to find the power-switch. "Damn! _Lumos!" _

There was the sound of a bolt being scraped back, and finally…at long last…the door swung open. Squinting past the flaming tip of the holly wand, Ron caught only a brief sight of his raven-haired best friend before rasping out, "Harry! You've got to…!"

"Ron! What the bloody hell are you doing here, mate? It's…" he trailed off as he consulted his watch. "…almost three in the morning!" he was clad in only a pair of boxer-shorts, decorated with fluttering Snitches; his black hair was in a state of utter disarray, and his normally-friendly emerald eyes were sparkling with the dance of impatience.

"Harry…its Hermione. Its time."

Harry's eyes widened, his jaw dropped, and for the first time, it seemed, he took in his friend's terrified expression, and the gasping pants that came from his winded body. The impatience disappeared instantly, to be replaced with unmistakable excitement. "What! Are you serious? But…what're you doing here?"

"Wrong…need…Ginny!"

Harry hesitated, obviously confused. "What?"

"I NEED GINNY!"

"Oh," Harry was clearly still very wrong-footed, but he nevertheless drew back, allowing Ron to stagger over the threshold into his home. "Hang on, I'll get…"

"Harry?" as though she'd sensed her help was needed, Ginny appeared in the doorway of the bedroom, tugging on a thick robe. "What's wrong?" her brown eyes widened in shock at the sight of her brother. "Ron? What in the world is going on?"

"I was about to ask the exact same thing," Harry informed her.

"It's Hermione!" Ron burst out. "She..." but despite himself, he trailed off as he caught sight of Ginny's bedtime outfit, which was peeking out from beneath the robe. She was dressed in a two-piece, rather flimsy lingerie set...he recognized it immediately, seeing as how Hermione owned a set exactly like it, although hers was a pale blue, whereas Ginny's was a fire-engine red. Seemingly completely thrown off track, Ron threw a glance back at Harry, only to catch his best friend surreptitiously tugging his pajama bottoms back up around his waist...he had missed them during their first encounter, seeing as how they'd been tangled haphazardly around Harry's left foot.

Catching the look on his friend's freckled face, Harry held up his hands in surrender. "Hey, mate. We're married, remember?" to offer assistance, the light from his wand fell across his hand, glinting off the small golden ring. "Just thought I'd remind you," Harry offered teasingly, as Ginny blushed scarlet and pulled the robe tighter around her body.

"Yeah well..." Ron grumbled. "Still doesn't mean I want to know about..." suddenly, his reason for being there came flapping back into his head. "What the bloody hell am I saying? HERMIONE'S HAVING THE BABY!"

Ginny's expression slid from indignation to delight in a matter of seconds. "She is? Ron, that's great! It's..." she paused, a frown creasing her forehead. "But wait...she's only in her eighth month, isn't she? I thought she wasn't due for another month?"

"That's what I've been trying to tell you!" Ron bellowed in frustration. "She's _not _due yet, its too early! But the contractions hit her out of nowhere...I can't get her to St. Mungo's! You have to come...now! We have to help her!"

Ginny had already turned on her heel and disappeared into the bedroom, summoning her clothes as she went. Harry too went straight into action, dropping into an armchair to tug on his shoes. "Don't worry, mate," he said seriously, his fingers clumsy as he tied the knots. "Hermione'll be fine...Ginny got through it well enough, remember..."

He was cut off as another loud knock sounded at the door. Harry crossed the living room in two huge strides, and pulled open the door wide enough to allow Fleur to edge into the house. She was wearing a thick satin cloak of bright pink, her blue eyes sleep-heavy and her blonde hair plaited. "I 'ave just received Ginny's Patronus," she said haltingly, sparing a quick glance for Ron before returning her attention to Harry. "She said I was needed. I Apparated 'ere as queekly as possible."

"Yes, thank you Fleur," Ginny said briskly as she reappeared in the living room, fully dressed and tucking her wand in her pocket. "Hermione's having the baby and needs our help...would you mind watching James for us, please?"

"But of course," the older woman agreed immediately, sweeping past the three of them into their son's room. The moment she disappeared, Ginny caught Ron by the arm and dragged him out onto the porch, Harry hot on their heels.

"My question," he panted, as they quick-stepped their way out to the fence, where the Apparition boundary was, "is why for the love of Merlin did you run all the way here?"

"Do you honestly think I could Apparate at a time like this?" Ron snapped. "Blimey, Harry...I'd have splinched myself twelve times over!"

"Alright, alright," Harry conceded; after all, he too could play the part of the anxious father quite well.

"Well let's hope at least part of you ends up back at your place," Ginny said grimly as they passed the Apparition point. "Here...take my hand and hang on tight."

With Ginny on one side and Harry on the other, Ron allowed the panic to subside for five seconds...and in that time, the trio had turned on the spot and vanished into thin air, reappearing almost immediately at the small and cozy bungalow Ron and Hermione shared.

Thankfully, all body parts were intact.

The panic that Ron had managed to fight down returned tenfold as they rushed through the door and up to the bedroom. To his immense relief, Hermione looked no worse for the wear than she'd done before he left...despite the fact that her cheeks were a bright, blistering crimson and she was gripping the sheets so hard her knuckles were turning white.

"For God's sake!" she bit out as her husband, best friend and sister-in-law crowded around her bed. "Were they on vacation in Greece? Is that what took so bloody long?"

"So sorry, love," Ron said quietly as he gently wiped a bead of sweat off her already-glistening forehead. "You know I have no love for high-pressure situations..."

"WELL I'M REALLY SODDING SORRY TO HEAR THAT RON, SEEING AS I'M HAVING THE TIME OF MY LIFE HERE!"

"Okay, Dad," Harry said quietly as he grabbed Ron's shoulders and tugged him back. "Let's give her some breathing room, shall we..."

"How far apart are the contractions, Hermione?" Ginny asked with the patience of a trained veteran. "Maybe it's a false alarm, maybe..."

"If this is a false alarm then I would bloody well hate to be in an emergency!" Hermione snapped, releasing her death-grip on the sheets and latching onto the nearest substitute...which in this case just happened to be a hank of Ron's shoulder-length auburn hair.

"Whoa now," Ron said cautiously, reaching up and gently transferring her grasp from his hair to his hand. "Easy there love..."

He was cut off yet again as Hermione threw back her head and whimpered, grinding her nails so far into his palm she drew blood. "It...hurts..." she almost cried, her eyes pleading as they landed on her husband.

"I know, baby," he whispered, fighting the urge to break down and bawl himself. "Just please...stay strong. For me...and for him..."

"Still with the 'him," then, are you?" she asked through gritted teeth. "I hope you're not forgetting our little deal..."

"As if you would ever let me," he countered, smiling as he stroked her wet brown hair off her forehead. Ron's confident assertions that his first child would be a son had greatly annoyed Hermione, who longed to have a daughter. The bickering had finally led to a deal, the pay-off being that if Ron won, he would be granted the honor of naming their child...something else the couple had fought over. And if he lost, he would finally concede to Hermione's persistent nagging and learn how to drive a Muggle car.

So as it was, he was rather anxious for his son to make his appearance and take his father's side.

Harry and Ginny...who had been whispering inaudibly in the background...now approached the bed-side. Harry smiled at his best mate and his wife, remembering all too well exactly what Ron was going through. "I'm about to pop over to St. Mungo's," he told Hermione softly. "Bring back a Healer. Maybe they can make the pain a little easier, yeah?"

Her response was an affirmative squeak. Harry gave her free hand a squeeze, nodded to Ron, and took off at a sprint for the Apparition boundary; Ginny followed, intending to give the about-to-be parents a bit of privacy.

"I can't believe this is really it," Ron said wonderingly.

"I know," Hermione agreed wearily, eager to have something to concentrate on other than the pain. "Seems like only yesterday you were trying to show out on the Hogwarts express, what with dirt on your nose and all..."

Ron smiled. "Ah...those were the days, huh?"

"As though you can remember them...," Hermione retorted sharply as another contraction made her wince, "when you can barely remember to put your socks in the laundry. I bet you can't even remember anything from before our sixth year, can you?"

The expression in her pained chestnut eyes was odd...it was almost accusatory. But even as the words left her mouth, images began to flash through Ron's mind...it was as though someone had put his life on a swiftly-playing slideshow, and memories were flooding his inner eye...

"On the contrary, love," he whispered adoringly as he wiped a series of pain-induced tears from her shining eyes. "I remember it quite vividly."

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A/N: So...rubbish or wonderful? Eh or awesome? Read and review? Love if you do!

Note the rhyme. It was not intentional. ;)


	2. Showing Slytherin

**Disclaimer:** [see Prologue

**A/N: **This is a complete experimentation. At the end of this, I might find I've been as woefully wrong as Humphrey Belcher, who decided the time was ripe for a cheese cauldron:D

Just a quick note: As you all may know, our Golden couple don't really begin to have "feelings" for each other until PoA, at the earliest...as a result, the first two books aren't exactly riddled with as many opportunities as the last two! But even though there wasn't exactly a lot of room for romance, I thought we could definitely come up with some cute moments! I hope you'll bear with me until we're given more leeway!

If any of you can think of a scene you'd like to see made into a missing moment, please let me know! I'd be happy to try it out!

And lastly, to my reviewers: **Hermione** **Solo, Annie858, Woollongong Shimmy, cheesylocamotive, CreativeTypist, Beffy-Boop, Geolina Bartilonee, Mists, Love.Always.Alice.and.Jasper**.: I love you all!

And to **pstibbons**, who has expressed the concern that anyone who believes Ron is good enough for Hermione is "immature, naïve and/or hates Hermione," I suppose that means Hermione hates herself quite a bit, for she wanted Ron more than we all wanted him with her! And as for your opinion that she should be paired with Remus...I'm sorry, but I adore Remus too much to reduce him to a pedophile. Thanks for reading!

I. Showing Slytherin

The sky was a clear, deep blue, the sun beaming furiously from amidst a cluster of puffy white clouds. Not a breath of wind was to be found, and no one...fan or not...could deny that it was perfect Quiddich conditions. As usual, the stands were packed to bursting with energized, chattering students, and the noise level was certainly one to rival that of the World Cup. The excitement amongst the spectators was thick, tangible, as of course it should be...

All of this, it seemed, was lost on Severus Snape, who marched out onto the pitch looking thoroughly...to be blunt...pissed. The expression on his face was dancing over into dangerous realms...in sharp contrast to the cheerful ambiance around him, Snape appeared to be an absolute waste of flesh and intelligence.

At least in Ron's opinion.

"I've never seen Snape look so mean," he said to Hermione, his lip automatically curling in dislike. Thoughts of Snape, however, were momentarily removed to the backburner as the fourteen players rose steadily into the air, casting huge shadows onto the ground. "Look...they're off. Ouch!" he added, raising a hand to the sharp pain in the back of his head.

"Oh, sorry, Weasley, didn't see you there."

Ron closed his eyes for a moment against the voice, envisioning a rather lovely scene in which one of the Bludgers suddenly found itself thirsty for the blood of the blonde git behind him. When it became apparent that this most glorious of dreams was not to become reality, Ron merely muttered a curse under his breath, leaning away from Malfoy and closer to Hermione. She gave him a stern glance, silently admonishing him for swearing, but at that moment Harry streaked over their heads and the pair turned their attentions, simultaneously, back to the game.

From the bench behind them, Malfoy apparently said something highly amusing, for Crabbe and Goyle lapsed into identical snickers. Ron was only listening with half an ear; his insides were knotted with worry over Harry and anger at Snape, who was evidently schizophrenic, with both personalities warring over who could deduct more points from Gryffindor. With Dumbledore present, there was not much more he could do...however, the thought did little to comfort Ron, and he glanced over at Hermione for reassurance. He gained little, for she was hunched in her seat, eyes locked attentively on Harry, her whole body tensed as though ready for an explosion.

Malfoy was not helping matters; he was at it again, delighting in Snape's unfairness and celebrating by launching a well-rounded attack on the Gryffindors. Ron, who was much too engrossed in the game to worry about it properly, did manage half a grin as he heard Neville, blushing scarlet, say, "I'm worth twelve of you, Malfoy."

"You tell him, Neville," he said distractedly.

"Longbottom, if brains were gold you'd be poorer than Weasley, and that's saying something."

Already momentarily averted from the match by Neville's brave retort, Ron absorbed the insult with both ears...which were slowly reddening by the moment. Never a good sign. "I'm warning you, Malfoy...one more word..."

"Ron!" Hermione screeched, reaching out suddenly and latching onto his sleeve. "Harry!"

"What? Where?" his eyes scanned the skies, coming to a rest on Harry's plummeting form. The broom was rocketing towards the ground, drawing gasps from the crowd as they strained to catch a glimpse of the Golden Snitch. Hermione leapt to her feet, one hand over her mouth and the other still clutching Ron's sleeve. He obeyed the pressure without thinking; he rose to his feet as well, heart hammering as he watching Harry's progress...

"You're in luck, Weasley; Potter's obviously spotted some money on the gr..."

In was quite lucky, perhaps, that Ron was standing...within a second, he had twisted around and launched himself over the bench. Malfoy's taunting gray eyes widened to what could've been surprise or terror...maybe both...as Ron sailed over the seat, fists already flying. The first blow was by all means the best...although admittedly, it was a bit of an accident, what with Ron slipping on his own robes on his flight over the bench. Nevertheless, the top of his head managed to connect directly with Draco's face...sure he busted his nose on his own fist, but of course, that detail wasn't really necessary. He merely heaved a deep breath and pushed on through, wrestling the surprised Slytherin to the ground. After a few moments, he became aware of a whole new tussle taking place right beside them...before Crabbe and Goyle had time to do more than blink stupidly, Neville had clambered over his seat, one fat fist connecting with each of them.

This, of course, put fresh heart into Ron...the pair of them continued to roll around under the stands, right in under Hermione's seat. Ron vaguely heard her shout something, along with his name, but was much too fixated on his target to care. Malfoy, somehow, had finally gotten ahold of the situation and had scrambled on top, forcing Ron's head back with one hand and raising his free fist...

"Ron! Ron, did you see...oh for God's sake!" Hermione's tone had switched from excited to exasperated in mere seconds. _"Locomotor Mortis!_"

With a strangled yell, Malfoy's legs snapped together; now that his adversary was unbalanced, Ron was able to shove him off and clamber to his feet. Breathing heavily, yet smirking, Ron wheezed. "And that's what you get, you sorry prat! You're just lucky I went easy on you, or..." he trailed off at the loud "Ahem!" from behind. Glancing back, he saw Hermione standing with her arms crossed and head cocked, tapping her wand to her shoulder. "Oh...well done to you, to," he told her grudgingly.

She raised one eyebrow, and then opened her mouth to speak. Before she could utter one word, however, Ron had grabbed her by the arm. "Come on, Hermione...haven't you realized we won?!"

"But...that's what...really!" and with that, she allowed herself to be tugged along with the rest of their scarlet-and-gold clad house, who were all surging onto the field to cheer for Harry.

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Ron dashed along the deserted corridor, trainers flapping on the rough stone floor; having just left Fred and George to go gather the necessary supplies for their victory party, he was now feverishly searching for Hermione. He remembered hearing her vaguely say something about checking on Neville, so he directed his footsteps towards the hospital wing. Sure enough, as he approached the cracked door, he heard her voice drifting out into the hallway. Aware of the blood dripping off his nose and onto his robes, Ron held up a hand to stem the flow and waited outside, unwilling to have Madam Pomfrey fuss over him, as she was currently doing to Neville.

"...insulting him, and I think Neville just sort of...snapped." Ron could hear the pride...also, a bit of amusement...in Hermione's voice as she explained to the nurse what happened.

"Absolutely ridiculous! I'll be reporting that boy...I can't even imagine the cruelty it would've taken to get such a reaction out of Mr. Longbottom! But anyway, Miss Granger...thank you for telling me, but I really don't think there's much we can do now. A bit of rest and before long he'll be as good as new."

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey." Her voice was right on the other side of the door; she slipped around it, closing it quietly, and then turned almost directly into Ron.

"For heaven's sake Ronald! Watch where you're going!"

"Sorry," he said thickly, although not sounding sorry in the slightest. "Have you seen Harry since the match?"

"Harry? No...I thought he was with you," her gaze landed on Ron's streaming nose, which he was trying, and failing, to control. "You should really have Madame Pomfrey take a look at that."

"Are you kidding?" he barked, now switching sleeves, as the other one was completely coated with blood. "And have her insist that I stay there for three days, drinking a Replenishing potion every half-hour? No thanks," he added with an exaggerated shudder as they started off down the corridor. "I'll take the nosebleed."

Hermione shook her head. "Ron, you are the limit," she sighed. "So you haven't seen Harry at all? Where could he have gotten off to?"

Ron shrugged. "Maybe he went to find Snape? So they could have a little chat about the fairness of the scoring?"

"I don't know of anyone who would _actively_ seek out Snape," Hermione said matter-of-factly. Ron gave her an incredulous look. "What?" she asked.

"Nothing...just never thought I'd see the day when you started criticizing teacher," despite himself, he grinned...then immediately after he winced, as a few drops of blood dripped into his mouth.

"I'm not criticizing anyone...I'm merely telling the truth," she retorted loftily. Then, quite suddenly, she reached out and placed a hand on Ron's shoulder, stopping him. "Hang on," she said, rather softly.

He paused, one hand still covering his nose. "What?" he asked, almost defensively.

Hermione rolled her eyes as she removed her wand from her robes. "Move your hand."

"_What?" _

"Move your hand," she repeated patiently, at the same time reaching up and taking Ron's blood-soaked hand away from his face. The next thing he knew, she was pointing her wand at his nose, the point not more than an inch from it.

"Uh...Hermione?" he stared at the tip of the wand, cross-eyed, and said cautiously, "You know I think you're brilliant and all, but...well, this just might be a Ron thing, but I'm not at all fond of having a wand pointed between my eyes..."

"And I'm not at all fond of trying to converse with you with blood streaming down your face! Now hush!" before he had time to protest, she flicked her wand and said, "_Episkey_."

Ron's nose burned, then froze...and then he could feel the flow of blood stopping. Reaching up, he touched it gingerly. "Bloody hell! That was brilliant, thanks..." Hermione cut off his thanks by flicking her wand yet again, saying, "_Tergeo_." Another experimental touch found all the blood gone from his face. Then she directed her wand at his two wet sleeves and repeated the spell. They were once again glossy black.

"Where do you learn all this stuff?" he asked softly. Hermione had reached for his hand, pulling back the sleeve so she could remove the blood.

"It never hurts to be prepared, Ron."

He smiled. "Prepared, yes, but you could take over from Pomfrey any day n..."

_"Harry!" _

He trailed off, the thought completely forgotten, as Hermione squealed the Seeker's name and dashed down the corridor to where he had appeared. Ron, still feeling slightly flustered, followed in her wake. "Where have you been!"

The excitement of the morning returned full force, Ron grinned heartily and thumped Harry on the back. "We won! You won! We won! And I gave Malfoy a black eye, and Neville tried to take on Crabbe and Goyle single-handed! He's still out cold, but Madam Pomfrey says he'll be alright! Talk about showing Slytherin..."

It was here he stopped, as he noticed the odd look on Harry's face. "Never mind that now! Let's find an empty room, wait until you hear this!" and he promptly dragged his two mystified friends off into a deserted classroom. "...Quirrel would have done some anti-Dark Arts spell that Snape needs to break through..."

Ron felt his jaw drop. They sat there for a moment in complete silence, until Hermione asked sharply, "So you mean the stone's only safe as long as Quirrel stands up to Snape?" she threw a look of pure shock at Ron, who unconsciously nodded grimly.

"It'll be gone by next Tuesday."

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**A/N:** So about Hermione already knowing those spells, even though it's the first year...I might've cheated a bit, but she's brilliant, so I hope there's not a lot of shouting over that!

I don't love this chapter too much...I prefer a bit more fluff...but please let me know what you think! And remember...if you have a scene you'd like to make it in here, just let me know! Ideas are always appreciated.

**(T.S.E)**


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